Falling Slowly
by Eta Piscium
Summary: Their first meeting throws them off balance, and their second meeting is even briefer, but why can't they forget each other? Zevie, with some Seddie thrown in.


**A/N:** I originally wrote this for what was deemed National Zevie Day on tumblr, which was on July 21, but I totally forgot to upload it here. So, uh, here's to a belated celebration? Also, this totally turned into a crossover with iCarly, but since it's still mostly Zevie, I'm just going to leave it at that. There is quite a bit of Seddie still. It was only supposed to have subtle iCarly elements, but it kinda spun out of control... If you've read Megan's (WritingPurple) fic where Stevie is Sam and Freddie's future daughter, this would make a lot more sense. Kudos to Megan for putting up with my horrid whining, and to Alli (Dueling Banjos) for talking me into writing this. I hope you guys like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own How to Rock, iCarly, or its characters. Nor do I own the song "Falling Slowly" by Glen Hansard. Also, there's a line in here from Jason Mraz's "The Sunshine Song."

* * *

Their first meeting throws them off balance.

* * *

Zander had a long day. He'd spent it traipsing around from town to town with only his favorite fedora and his ukulele, hoping to squeeze a little spending money out of tourists with his songs, to no avail. He'd had listeners, small audiences who stopped and heard him out, but several performances later his instrument case was still decidedly empty. Feeling more than a little defeated, Zander had cut his day short and spent the day wandering dejectedly through the streets. He was now on his way back to the university.

When he told his dads that he was going abroad to Europe over the summer, he had imagined the continent to be, well, more like it is in the movies. It all seems bigger onscreen, more romantic, and quite a lot greener. Maybe he picked the wrong country. But within the week after his arrival, disillusionment had fallen on him like a suffocating blanket, and inspiration eluded him still. He hasn't been able to write anything in three weeks, and he was afraid his frustration was showing in his recent performances.

He sits back in his seat, brooding, and the subway slows to a stop. The doors open, and a mass of people spill out, leaving the compartment empty save for Zander, who didn't move (his stop is the next one), and another rather larger man, perhaps twice Zander's height and three times as wide, slumped near the doors. As the doors slide closed, a girl slips in, sporting a red beanie and clutching a rather worn-looking sketchpad (the pages were tearing out), looking windswept and terribly out of breath. But what makes Zander really study her is her radiant smile. Something about her demeanor brightens the whole place, Zander included. Her happiness is contagious, and Zander feels the corners of his mouth quirk up. The girl has just taken a step towards the nearest seat across from Zander when the subway gives an enormous jerk. And as the giant flings out an arm to balance himself, the flailing limb inadvertently collides with the girl as she tries to pass.

_Whump! _There's a small squeal, and something flies into Zander. For a moment, he's stunned. Slowly, he blinks away the stars from the impact and takes in the scene around him.

Papers are strewn absolutely everywhere. The girl's beanie lies on the floor next to the doors, and Zander is aware of something smelling faintly of charcoal and coffee and light perfume sprawled against his chest. The girl. He shifts slightly and gently nudges her.

"…You okay?"

Sparkling hazel eyes blink up to meet his own.

* * *

Stevie's day was actually going pretty well. She'd begun by visiting her favorite little coffee shop, snickering slightly at tourists ordering Americano and holding their maps upside-down. She shakes her head as she draws them.

She'd been rounding another street corner on the route she'd planned for that day's excursion, drawing everything she could see, when she heard it.

_How cliché,_ she thought, _for there to be a moving soundtrack in Europe._

For there had been music coming from the other side of the street, a musician playing to a small crowd, his back turned towards her. The melody was sweet, she decided, albeit tinged with a kind of bitterness that didn't suit the song. As the performer swayed slightly to the music, she was just able to make out the shape of his jaw and the ukulele in his hands. Smiling slightly, she sketched his form and moved on.

She had always admired the architecture in this country – elegant buildings that exude a certain kind of unique antiquity. It had been one of her reasons for wanting to come here, of all places offered in the program. But her main reason was that her sketches had recently garnered criticism from her professors, who told her that while her technique was perfect, and her art beautiful, her pieces lacked emotion. As far as they were concerned, they were looking at lines on a paper – soulless graphite markings on fiber. And what's an artist without a soul? Devastated, Stevie immediately applied for a summer abroad here.

Her parents had been skeptical when she told them which country she picked, insisting that she could draw landmarks just as soulful in Rome or Geneva, but she'd talked them down. Paris or London wasn't right. It had to be here. Her mother had asked her why she didn't want to go somewhere more famous for its food, and her father had wanted her to take pictures of the particle accelerators at CERN, but Stevie really want to come _here_. Here was a place where she could be herself, away from her parents, her brothers, and her eccentric friends. She loves them all, truly and wholeheartedly, but she cherishes this time she gets to be alone, focus solely on her art, find herself.

She's putting the finishing touches on a detailed drawing of a bronze statue when she glances at her watch. She starts. With all of the gorgeous landmarks and scenery, she'd lost track of time. The last subway heading back to the university would be leaving in five minutes, and she's roughly three blocks away. She hurriedly stuffs her drawings into the cover of her sketchpad, downs the rest of her latte, and starts sprinting towards the station.

She barely gets in as the doors close on her. Feeling quite pleased with herself, she looks around the near-empty compartment and sees a vacant seat close to her, across from a boy wearing a fedora, a ukulele by his side. He looks up at her and smiles slightly. His profile looks vaguely familiar, but before she can dwell on it, a force on her back throws her completely off balance and her face slams into something firm and warm. Whatever she's run into, it smells a lot nicer than a subway wall, like a combination of brown sugar and cologne. The wall moves and a voice causes her to look up.

* * *

He's about to say something else when she leaps out of his arms and begins frantically recovering her scattered drawings. Zander starts to help her, picking up her beanie and holds it out to her.

"I, uh, like your beanie." _Great. Way to be charming, dorkus._

But she smiles at him and takes it.

"Thanks. I like your fedora."

He doesn't melt at her voice. He doesn't. His traitorous heart flutters, so he grins at her and starts helping her with her drawings. They're just about done when the subway screeches to a halt, and the papers fly out of their hands again.

The doors open – it's Zander's stop. He frowns and shoots the girl an apologetic look, and she nods understandingly before tilting her head towards the exit. Zander gives her a relieved smile and a small wave as he squeezes through the throng of people and out into the station.

It is only after he's above ground that he realizes he'd forgotten to introduce himself. And that he is still holding a now rather wrinkled piece of paper. One of the girl's drawings. Mentally kicking himself, he tentatively straightens the page out with a smooth of his hand.

His eyes widen as he takes in the form of a solitary ukulele player and the bright smiles on the faces of the surrounding crowd. She must've passed him when he was playing the streets today. He'd been playing one of his own songs, one he'd written not too long ago. As he gazes at the picture, he remembers his performance earlier in the day. He loves that song, but whenever he played it he's reminded of his minimal success and his writing block. And she'd captured all of that in her simple drawing. Warmth returns to his body as he recalls how it felt when she had been pressed against him, the glow of her easy smile returning to his mind, voice as smooth as butterscotch, and inspiration sparks like tinder in his mind. Positively illuminated, and fueled by the revelation of his long-awaited muse, Zander races back to his apartment to finally begin to _write_.

* * *

By the time Stevie had finished collecting her fallen sketches, she'd missed her stop. Fortunately, she was only a few blocks out, and she'd felt like taking a walk anyways.

Slowly, she makes her way towards her apartment, trying not to dwell on what had happened in the subway.

"It's not like you've never hugged a boy before, Stevie," she admonishes herself. "So he was cute. And nice. And he had gorgeous eyes and great arms and awesome taste in hats – stop it, Stevie! It's not like you'll ever see him again. Get a grip."

But she can't keep thoughts of the boy with the warm smile and mischievous brown eyes out of her mind. It isn't until she's sitting in her room and reorganizing her chaotic stack of sketches that she realizes she's missing the piece with the street musician. With sudden clarity about why the boy had seemed so familiar, she sits down and begins to draw.

* * *

Their second meeting is even briefer.

* * *

Stevie is horribly late. She knows she shouldn't have spent so much time drawing that bridge, but the lighting had been so gorgeous she couldn't resist. But now she's about to miss her class. She was late yesterday, and if she misses class today, her professor really isn't going to be happy with her.

So she's hurtling down the street, one hand over the strap of her shoulder bag, the other securing her purple beanie when she trips spectacularly, reflexively reaching out to grab anything around her for support. Her momentum brings her to the ground, and it takes Stevie a while to realize that whatever she had grabbed had also broken her fall. She faintly registers the rising and falling of a chest, and knows that she had fallen on a person.

She's lying on a person. She's lying on a warm, distinctively male person who smells strongly of brown sugar. Oh. She lifts her head and regards him. Those eyes she hasn't been able to forget, the arms she remembers supporting her, and that smile she can't seem to stop drawing – right there in front of her. She should say something. It shouldn't be this hard to talk to someone. She's college-educated, for crying out loud, and – oh, _crap_.

"I am so sorry, but I'm going to be _so_ late for class! Um, thank you for breaking my fall again!" And then she's running.

_Thank you for breaking my fall again? Really_, _Stevie? You could tattoo 'dork' on your forehead and see if that's less awkward._

She vaguely hears the boy call after her, a question in his voice, but she's already too far away to catch what he says. So she looks back and gives him a small wave before disappearing around the corner.

* * *

He didn't get to introduce himself. Why didn't he speak sooner? She was standing right there, staring at him, and he could've said something, _anything_; but his courage stuttered, and before he managed to form words, she was already hurrying away.

"Wait!" he'd yelled. "What's your name?"

But she couldn't hear him, so all he got in response was a smile and a wave, and she was gone.

He's still rooted in the same spot minutes later, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He thinks about how she came tearing through the street, cheeks flushed and scarf flying, and he'd been so close to reaching out his arms and picking her up to stop her, when she'd tripped, meters away from him, and he'd thrown himself in her path to catch her.

He groans in frustration. He wants to tell her his name, wants to learn hers. He wants to get to know everything about her and show her the beginning of that song he's started to write, all because of her.

Maybe next time.

* * *

Their third meeting is the last time they see each other that summer.

* * *

There is only one week left before the summer program is over, and Zander hasn't seen the girl since their last run-in. He's looked, of course, riding that same subway and wandering that same street corner every other day, but she never shows. The song he'd begun to write is nearly finished, but because he hasn't seen the girl in so long, his muse is fading away. If he never sees her again, does that mean he won't be able to write anymore? He'd been wandering around again today after his usual street performances, searching for any sign of her, but no luck. He hasn't even been able to find her at the university. He's searched the art department several times in the past weeks, but because he doesn't know her name, that's come up empty as well.

He sighs and enters a small coffee shop. There's a bell on the door that signals his entrance.

The first thing he notices as he gets in line is the man in front of him. He would have been completely normal had he not been standing there tinkering with one of those chemistry model sets – the ones with sticks and springs and colorful balls to build molecules with. The man looks at Zander out of the corner of his eyes, and sees him staring.

"I'm building dopamine." He states proudly, before promptly going back to his model.

Zander shakes his head in amusement. But as he chuckles to himself, the man suddenly fumbles his molecule. He watches in slow motion as the figure falls to ground and simply falls apart, black carbon and red oxygen beads rolling and bouncing all around on the floor. The man drops to his knees and starts crawling after each bead. Zander bends to help him, but the man waves him off.

"Take my place in line, kid. It's fine. I got it."

So Zander reluctantly straightens and moves ahead in line. There's a girl still ahead of him, now reaching over the counter to take her completed coffee order. Zander doesn't have time to warn her about the beads still rolling around underfoot before she turns and steps on one of the stray carbons. He has just enough time to register hazel eyes and a dark green beanie before she's crashing towards him.

This time, he catches her.

Her coffee cup splashes to the ground, and the mess is spectacular, but Zander really doesn't care. He's finally found her.

"Hey," he grins.

"Hi," her eyes crinkle in response. "It's funny how we keep meeting like this, isn't it?"

And he's about to agree, about to come up with some witty retort, and finally, _finally_, get to ask her for her name. The words are on the tip of his tongue and this is it, he's going to do it –

Her phone rings, and they jump apart.

"Hello? What? No, slow down, what did you say? Oh, my God, really? Okay, okay, I'll be right there. Just stay calm, okay? Stay calm until I get there." She puts her phone away and looks up at Zander. "I'm so sorry, but I gotta go. My roommate's boyfriend just got into an accident, so I have to go to hospital and see if she's okay."

"Wow, is he alright?" asks Zander.

"He'll be fine, but she's really fragile most of the time as it is." She smiles at him, still looking rather worried. "Maybe I'll see you around."

And she's out the door, bell jingling as she exits.

"Yeah," he mumbles. "See you around."

He sighs again and turns around to order his coffee, the shop now mostly empty. His foot kicks something on his way over to the counter, and he looks down to see the girl's now empty coffee cup. He reaches down and picks it up, turning it around in his hand. He glances at the coffee order, smiling to himself at the specifications, and he sees it. Her name.

"Stevie."

He says her name out loud a few more times, reveling in the fact that he finally knows it.

_It suits her,_ he decides.

He goes to the restroom and rinses out the cup before putting in his instrument case. Then, he quietly exits the shop.

* * *

The next day, he goes back. He fills out Stevie's coffee order, and asks the barista to put her name on the cup. And then he waits.

The rest of the day drags on, and there's no sign of her. Still, Zander sits in the coffee shop, working on his song to pass time, strumming his ukulele thoughtfully every so often. He looks up when half of the lights in the shop dim. The barista looks at him.

"Sorry, kid, we're closin' soon. You should get on home."

Zander looks down at Stevie's coffee on the table, then back at the barista.

"Is it okay if I just, leave this here for now? Please?"

The barista sighs, "Yeah, sure, kid. Why not? You wanna leave her a message while you're at it?"

"Oh, um," the thought honestly hadn't occurred to him, "Yeah, sure! Can I borrow a pen, please?"

Zander takes the proffered sharpie marker and scrawls out a quick message on the cup. He replaces the cup on the table. Handing the pen back to the barista with an appreciative nod, Zander leaves.

He's rounded the corner and out of sight when a breathless Stevie arrives at the shop.

* * *

Stevie had meant to go back to the coffee shop first thing in morning, really, she had. But her friend's boyfriend's condition was actually a lot worse than they thought, and he was currently in the ICU. Understandably, her friend was extremely distraught, and Stevie just didn't feel comfortable with leaving her alone.

It's late in the evening when his condition finally stabilizes. Still, Stevie says goodbye to her friend and rushes off to the coffee shop. She arrives just as the remaining employee is locking up. He hears her footsteps and looks over.

"Sorry, we're closed."

"I know, I just…" She shifts uncomfortably. "This is going to sound really weird, but, was anyone here looking for me?"

The guy blinks at her. Suddenly, he smiles brightly, chuckling a little.

"Sure was! He stayed all day, too. You Stevie?"

"Uh, yeah, but –"

She's cut off by his throwing the door open.

"Kid left ya somethin'," he points rather eagerly at the table Zander previously occupied, "See that cup there? Wrote a little somethin' on it 'fore I kicked 'im out, too."

Stevie gingerly picks up the cup.

"_Stevie,_

'_If there's a light in everybody, send out your ray of sunshine.'  
__Thank you for pointing me home._

_-Zander"_

* * *

Zander finishes his song two days before his summer semester ends. He sets up his camera, grabs his ukulele, and records a video-demo that he uploads to YouTube.

In the video description, he writes,

"_To the one who pointed me home."_

* * *

Stevie takes the coffee cup back to Seattle with her after the summer program. She puts it on her nightstand, and since she's always drinking coffee, no one asks her why it's there. There's about a month before school officially starts, so she spends her days outside, drawing. She wanders around, stopping every time she sees a street performer, even though she knows, deep down, that it won't be Zander.

One day, her friend (the one whose boyfriend was injured) sends Stevie a link to a YouTube video, and tells her to listen to the song.

"It's absolutely amazing, Stevie! I think you'll love it."

But Stevie puts it off, in no mood to listen to some other musician's work.

Weeks later, her dad announces that he's signed a new artist, and that he wants the family to meet him at dinner.

* * *

A week after the video is uploaded to YouTube, Zander's phone rings.

"_Hello, is this Zander Robbins?"_

"Uh, yeah, who's this?"

"_This is Gibby Gibson, calling from Jamon Records. I'm the assistant of the CEO, Freddie Benson. He heard your song and loved it. I'm calling you on his behalf. He wishes for you to come in and negotiate a record deal."_

Zander almost drops the phone.

"Y-You what? You liked my song?"

"_Yes, very much so. Would you be interested to come in and talk to us?"_

"Would I be- Yes! Yes, of course!"

"_Good. Let's hammer out the details then…"_

* * *

_*Riiiiiiiing*_

"Hello, Freddie Benson speaking."

"_Hey, nub."_

The corners of his mouth turn upwards.

"Sam, we've been married for over twenty years. Do you still have to call me that?"

"_For the eighteen trillionth time, nub-hub, yes, I do. And is that anyway to greet your darling wife?"_

Freddie's office door opens, and a blonde woman with cerulean eyes walks in. He hangs up the phone and smiles as he looks up into the face of his wife, Sam Puckett-Benson.

"Hey, demon."

She leans over the counter and kisses him.

"That, nub," she says as she pulls away, "Is how you greet your spouse."

"Hm," Freddie murmurs. "I couldn't very well kiss you over the phone, Sam. Unless you want me to make those gross kissy noises Carly makes all the time when she greets her 'hubbykins.'"

She makes a noise of disgust and he laughs. She walks around the desk and shoves him lightly. He grins and pulls her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Why the sudden visit at the office?" he smirks. "Are you here to make my wildest fantasies come true?"

"Please, with your imagination?" Freddie feigns hurt, and she softens. "No, I'm here because I wanted to talk to you about Stevie. I can't at home, since she's on summer break, and our shifts have been kind of crazy lately."

"You mean how Stevie's been unusually quiet lately?"

"Yeah, and that coffee cup she refuses to throw away. I mean, I'm not the neatest person, but she's had that thing for weeks. She won't even let me touch it. Do you think something happened to her while she was in– "

She's cut off by a knock at the door, and a head peeks in. It's Gibby.

"Hey, Freddie, that new– Oh, hey, Sam."

"'Sup, Gib?"

He nods in greeting and looks at Freddie.

"The new musician is here. He's waiting for you in the conference room."

Freddie nods his thanks, and Gibby closes the door.

Freddie looks at Sam. "When do you have to be back at the bakery?"

"Mama gave herself the rest of the day off."

"Of course you did." He shakes his head fondly. "Want to meet this musician with me? You've always been a good judge of talent. We can talk about Stevie afterward."

"Sure, nub."

They head to the conference room hand in hand.

* * *

Zander is nervous. He's sure he's never been this nervous in his life. He can't believe he's actually sitting in a conference room at a huge record label, about to meet with the CEO. And depending how the meeting goes, his entire future will be set. His dads were so happy for him when he told them about the phone call.

He unconsciously bounces his leg, trying desperately to calm down. He won't be able to talk if he's so nervous.

Then, Zander remembers the reason why he's here, why he wrote the song that got so much attention in the first place; he remembers Stevie. He recalls her smile, the light in her eyes, and her many multi-colored beanies. He's just about pushed down all of his anxiety when the door to the conference room opens, and two people, a man and a woman, step inside.

Immediately, Zander is hit with the notion that he's met them before. But that was impossible – he couldn't have. But, there's something eerily familiar about the two people before him. There's something about the man's friendly gaze and the way the woman's smile crinkles her eyes. Zander shakes it off before he stands and introduces himself.

"Hello, I'm Zander Robbins."

* * *

Freddie shakes Zander's hand and regards him silently as Sam introduces herself.

(Don't you _dare_ call me ma'am!)

Freddie smiles.

_He looks much younger in person_, he thinks. _He's just about Stevie's age._

"So, Zander, tell me about yourself."

Zander looks up.

"Well, sir, I love music, and I love writing music. It's what I want to do for the rest of my life, and I know I'll never get tired of it."

"Son, you're awfully young." Freddie hears Sam snort slightly at the word 'son.' He squeezes her hand and raises and eyebrow at her before turning back to Zander. "How do you know you won't give up after a mental block or something?"

Freddie is surprised when Zander smiles.

"Thing is, sir, I already had a writing block, and I really was right on the edge of giving up. But, I didn't."

"Why not?" asks Sam.

Zander turns to her.

"It's in the song. I wrote that song for the person who got me through it."

And then he looks so wistful that Freddie reaches out a hand and puts it on his shoulder.

"Tell you what. You seem like a nice kid, and I'd like to get to know you a little better before we sign anything, but the odds are in your favor, alright?"

Zander looks confused. "But, wait, 'get to know me better?' How does that work?"

This time, Sam smiles.

"It's kind of a company tradition to invite potential recording artists to have dinner with the family. We like to keep relationships cordial and friendly, so that there aren't any stupid lawsuits or bad publicity in the future." She holds out a fist. "So, how 'bout it, kid? You wanna come join the family for dinner at Pini's?"

"Sam," Freddie groans, "You did not just offer to bro-fist him."

"Hey, if he's going to sign with us, he'd better get used to the family way."

"Is that why you _slapped_ our other potential artist in the face?"

"Hey, you didn't like him either!"

"That doesn't mean slapping is the 'family way!' We're lucky we didn't get a lawsuit!"

"That's 'cause Mama scares him."

"That's not the point!"

Zander interrupts their banter with a chuckle and bumps his fist with Sam's. She smiles and claps him on the shoulder, making him stagger slightly, and Freddie stifles a snort. He thinks this kid will really get along well with the family. He sighs as Sam begins teaching Zander a complicated handshake she and Stevie always impose on people they meet. At least Sam seems to like him.

* * *

As she scrolls listlessly through her email, Stevie thinks about Zander. She wonders how he is, and where in the world he could be at that very moment. She glances at the coffee cup on her nightstand and sighs before returning to her computer.

She comes across the email her friend had sent her about that one song she was supposed to fall in love with. Her cursor hovers over the video link, and she's just about to click play –

"_Stevie!"_

Her bedroom door flies open and her mom bursts in. Stevie learned a long time ago to never ask for privacy in this house, because no lock on any door can keep her mother out. She swivels in her chair and pipes,

"Hey, Mom. What's up?"

"What's up?" She stomps in and sits down on the bed right across from where Stevie's sitting. "You came back from Europe two weeks ago, and all you've done is mope. You barely smile, and you don't sass your brothers at all! We're all worried about you, and your father almost burned the bacon last night because his lame jokes didn't make you tease him. Something happened to you when you were there, and you're going to tell me what. And after you tell me, we're going to go downstairs. Your dad has an announcement."

Stevie sighs. Her mother is by far the most stubborn person she has ever met, and once she sinks her teeth into something, she isn't letting go.

Grudgingly, she tells her everything that happened in the last weeks of her trip, starting with the incident in the subway, all the way up to her finding the coffee cup.

When she's done, her mother looks at her for a long time. Then, softly,

"That's the cup you won't throw away?"

Stevie nods.

"May I see it?"

Stevie hands it to her.

* * *

Sam takes the cup and turns it slowly in her hands. She stops when she sees the inscription on it.

"'Zander,'" she muses. "Is that his name?"

Stevie nods again.

_Well, lookie, lookie at this cookie,_ Sam thinks. She smiles to herself.

Without warning, she springs from her seat and tosses the cup back to Stevie before she grasps her arm and begins to lead her out.

"C'mon, Steves, your nubby daddy awaits!"

"Wait, Mom, is that really all you have to say?"

Sam turns around.

"Well, I'm assuming you're feeling much better after you've gotten everything off your chest, right?"

"Well, yeah, but – "

"But, nothing! I know you're frustrated, but moping is a chiz way of dealing with it. Sometimes, kid, if it's meant to happen, it will. Wow, I'm getting soft in my old age, aren't I?" She cups her little girl's face and brushes her hair aside. "Are you going to stop with all gloom now?"

"Why?" Stevie grins. "Are the boys getting harder to handle in your old age?"

Sam chuckles. "There's my girl. Now, c'mon, we've kept the nub waiting long enough."

As they head downstairs, Sam briefly considers calling telling Freddie about this whole thing. She thinks better of it. Telling him would only complicate things.

_Better to let this ship sail itself, Mama._

* * *

When they enter the living room, Stevie sees her dad lounging on the couch fiddling with one of his old Galaxy Wars toys. Her mom comes up behind her and gives her an impish look. Stevie grins back.

Together they sneak around the couch where he is sitting and tiptoe towards him. And, with a nod from her mother, they fly at him.

"GAH!" her dad's little toy flies upwards and lands with a thump on the couch. He picks it up with a sigh and turns to her mom. "Aw, c'mon. I was almost done recalibrating the– "

He notices Stevie sitting on his other side.

"Hey, you, demon-child." He ruffles her hair and she squeals. "I take it you're feeling better?"

"Daddy!" she reproachfully fixes her hair. "Yes, I'm fine. Mom said you had something you wanted to tell me."

"Oh, right. I would've told you sooner, but you've been all grumpy."

"So you sent Mom?"

He looks a little sheepish. "She volunteered! She was worried too! Anyways, I already told the boys, but," He sits up. "I'm considering signing a new artist. And you know the tradition we have with new artists."

Stevie snorts. "Tradition? It only started because you were scared of your first artist and needed Mom there to protect you." Her mom high-fives her.

"Hey! She came along because she wanted the lasagna, okay? I am perfectly capable of meeting my artists alone." He pouts and her mom grabs his lips between her fingers.

"Sure, Daddy." Stevie laughs. "So, when is the big dinner?"

"Pini's tomorrow night at seven." It sounds muffled because his lips are still being pinched. She and mother start giggling. Her dad pushes on. "I'll be going directly from the office, and you and your mother are being picked up by your brothers."

"SHOTGUN!" Stevie and her mother yell. At once, the two begin thumb-wrestling for who would win the coveted seat.

Out of the corner of her eye, Stevie watches her dad skulk out while they're at it.

* * *

Zander arrives at the restaurant early. He feels like he really shouldn't be this nervous. From his meeting with the two heads of the Benson family, Zander figures the rest of them should be equally easygoing. But anyone who's about to dine with a potential boss's family would be anxious. Zander resists the urge to take out his ukulele from its case, which is sitting by his feet under the round table, and play a song to calm down.

As his fingers drum against the tablecloth, Freddie arrives. He claps his hand on Zander's shoulder and slips into the seat across from him.

"The rest of the family will be here soon," he says, as Zander opens his mouth. He continues,

"How're you feeling? You nervous?" Zander nods. "Don't be. We don't bite. Well," He chuckles, "_I_ don't, but I really can't speak for my wife."

Zander stares at him.

Freddie stares back. This goes on until Zander cracks and they both start laughing.

They're interrupted by a waitress asking them what they would like to drink. She winks at Zander a little too ostentatiously, causing Freddie to snort slightly, so Zander puts the menu up to his face and studies the list of sodas vigorously.

"Oh," he hears Freddie say, "They're here. Hey, kids. Stevie, why're you walking backwards?"

Zander almost throws the menu aside when he hears that name. He looks over wildly and sees a girl walking backwards towards the table, being guided by a blonde woman he recognizes as Sam. Stevie's sporting a black beanie. He watches her come closer and closer, completely unable to speak. He knows he should stand and say hi, but really, every single time he's around this girl words seem to fail him. He finally knows why Sam and Freddie seemed so familiar to him.

She gets closer and closer, and Zander really doesn't know what to do. Her mother's supposed to be guiding her, but why is she letting her get so close? She's right at the edge of the table now, and before Zander can find his voice, she's tripped over the table leg and is flying towards him.

Zander vaguely hears laughter from the rest of the Benson family, but all he can focus on is the girl in his arms. She looks up at him, and he's reminded of their first meeting in the subway, when they were in a similar position. Their eyes meet. And Zander's throat finally unsticks.

"You okay?"

* * *

Stevie hates when she doesn't get to ride shotgun. She doesn't get much of a view outside, and her obnoxious brothers always squish her to the side. Since she has four brothers, three of them are in the back with her, and it's very, very crowded.

Her oldest brother looks back at her through the rear-view as he drives and chuckles.

"Hey, Stevie-wevie. How ya doing back there?"

She sends him her best death glare, and to her satisfaction, he winces a little. Her mother peers around the passenger seat and grins at her.

"Tell ya what, Steves. I'll let you ride shotgun next time. We don't even have to thumb-wrestle for it, and the boys won't be allowed to kick you either."

Stevie narrows her eyes.

"What's the catch?"

Sam smiles again. "Just a simple dare, and if you do it, seat's yours."

Stevie thinks it over. It's obvious her mother is up to something, but she really, really hates being in the back.

"Tell me the dare."

"When we get to the restaurant, you're going to walk backwards to our table." It doesn't sound too bad to Stevie, and judging by how her brothers protest, they don't think so either. Sam holds up a hand to silence them. "And you're going to let _me_ guide you."

The boys all snigger. Stevie groans. It would just be like her mother to guide her into a water fountain in front of complete strangers, or maybe even into the men's room. She shudders slightly.

"Gonna take the dare, baby girl?" her mom asks. "We're almost at the restaurant."

Stevie dislodges her brother's elbow from her side before it punctures her spleen and looks back at her mother.

"Deal."

* * *

They arrive at the restaurant five minutes after seven. Her brother gets out of the car, opens the back door, and Stevie is literally pushed out of the car as everyone tumbles out.

Her mom comes around the car and helps her up.

"You ready?" she asks as she brushes Stevie off. "I promise you your clothes won't be ruined."

"Gosh, that makes me feel _so_ much better, Mom." Stevie grumbles.

She turns around and lets her mother take both of her hands. Then, she starts walking backward.

"Stairs," says her mom. Stevie obediently steps upward.

And falls.

Her brothers double over laughing, and her mom grins at her cheekily as she helps her up again.

"Whoops."

Stevie sighs and continues on.

She manages to make it all the way to the maître d' without incident, but her mother manages to drive her right over the poor man's foot. Stevie apologizes to Spencer, and he chokes out a,

"S'okay, kiddo," before hobbling back behind his desk.

They're approaching their regular table when her mother gets a fabulously vicious grin on her face. Stevie hears her father yell out a greeting, but her mom continues to drive her backward. Why isn't she stopping? What's going on?

And then her foot catches on the table and she's falling.

She lands in a heap in someone's arms. At first, she thinks it's her father who's caught her, but she remembers his voice coming from the other side of the table. But why do these arms still feel so familiar to her? Ignoring the laughter exploding around her, she looks up.

Her eyes widen.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Z-Zander?"

* * *

Before he can answer, Freddie's voice interrupts him.

"Uh, you kids… know each other?"

Stevie literally springs out of Zander's arms. He can't help but feel a sense of déjà vu.

"Um, yeah, he, uh, I… We met in Europe."

Freddie's expression clears.

"Oh. Well, then. Small world, huh?" he grins at them. "Stevie, I'd introduce you, but it seems you already know each other. But as for the rest of the family, this is Zander Robbins, our potential new artist!"

Zander subsequently has his hand shaken by four men.

"We're Stevie's brothers," one of them says, eyes narrowing at him. "Her _older_ brothers."

Zander smiles nervously, but Stevie snorts.

"Yeah. My older brothers who are all about as intimidating as baby goats." She ignores their wounded looks and looks at Zander, who feels himself flush, and says, "Don't worry about them." Her cheeks are pink as well.

Sam jumps in. "When are we eating? Mama's starving!"

Everyone laughs.

* * *

As the dinner progresses, Stevie and Zander continue to sneak looks at each other, much to the amusement of Sam and Stevie's brothers. When dessert arrives, Freddie turns to Zander.

"Now, it seems like the family really likes you." Hope springs in Zander's chest. "But I can't sign you until they all agree on it. They may like you as a person, but if they don't like your music, the deal's no good, okay?" Zander nods. "So, I'm going to have to ask to you play your song for them."

Zander almost chokes on his chocolate cake. "W-What? Here? Right now?"

"That's right." Freddie grins. "And if they all like it, we'll sign the contract right now."

Zander glances at Stevie's brothers, who shrug at him, at Sam, who really looks rather pleased with herself, back to Freddie, who seems excited, and then finally to Stevie, who smiles at him encouragingly.

Zander breathes deeply, and bends to pick up his ukulele before heading to the small stage in the middle of the restaurant. He approaches the microphone stand and clears his throat. The restaurant falls silent.

"Hi. My name is Zander Robbins, and I wrote this song for a very special person."

The patrons clap politely, and Zander begins to play.

* * *

Stevie really doesn't know what to expect when Zander starts his song. She knows he must be good, because her dad wants to sign him, so she watches with anticipation as he begins strumming.

"_I don't know you, but I want you  
__All the more for that.  
__Words fall through me, and always fool me,  
__And I can't react._

"_And games that never amount  
__To more than they're meant  
__Will play themselves out._

"_Take this sinking boat and point it home  
__We've still got time.  
__Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice  
__You'll make it now."_

Then, he looks directly at Stevie. And she knows, knows that he wrote the song for her, knows that these lyrics are the same words he'd written on her coffee cup all those weeks ago, knows that he feels the way about her the way she feels about him. And she smiles.

"_Falling slowly, eyes that know me  
__And I can't go back."_

* * *

Zander finishes the song, and the restaurant explodes in applause.

Freddie and his entire family are standing at their table, and Stevie runs to the stage. Before Zander can say anything, she hugs him. The crowd cheers again.

Freddie comes up to them and holds out a piece of paper, pointing to a line at the bottom of the page.

"Sign right here, and you'll officially be under Jamon Records."

* * *

Weeks pass, and school starts up again. In his spare time, Zander heads to the recording studio with Freddie to record his debut album.

Sometimes, Stevie's there with them, sitting in the sound booth, drawing away. Zander always tries to sneak peeks at her artwork, but she always hides it away before he can get a good look.

_One of these days,_ he thinks.

As the days go on, he and Stevie grow closer. He learns her favorite artists, and she asks him about his favorite musicians. They hang out almost every day, going on long walks in the park and watching movies late into the night. They aren't dating, but it doesn't stop her brothers from teasing them when Zander goes to the Benson home for dinner. He's been looking for ways to make it official, but it never seemed like the right time, and her brothers seemed to have made it their mission in life to interrupt them whenever possible.

He's rummaging through his room one day, looking for his music notebook, when he discovers that drawing that Stevie had dropped in that subway. He looks at it fondly, remembering how it inspired him. It seems so long ago. Smiling to himself, he puts the drawing in his ukulele case and begins to make his way toward the Benson house.

* * *

Stevie's sitting at her desk, humming "Falling Slowly" to herself as she draws.

When she went back to school, one of her art professors had taken her aside to talk to her about her summer portfolio.

"The sketches in here are amazing, Stevie. You've really improved." Stevie had smiled and thanked her. "But, I wanted to ask you. Who is this boy?"

She had then taken out a drawing and showed it to Stevie. It was a sketch of Zander. She'd drawn it after that night at Pini's, and it showed Zander onstage looking at her as he played his ukulele.

"I, um. He's…"

"Whoever he is Stevie," her professor had interjected, "This is the most soulful piece out of all of the drawings in your portfolio. It's absolutely brilliant. With your permission, I'd like to submit it to the official art gallery in the university, where, if accepted, it would be displayed for as long as the art gallery remains open."

Stevie had been stunned. And just today, she'd gotten a phone call from the gallery curator telling her that her piece had been accepted. She absolutely can't wait to tell Zander when he gets here.

Suddenly, she hears her mother call her, so she leaves her notebook on the table and heads downstairs.

As soon as she disappears down the steps, Zander sneaks into her room from down the hall.

* * *

Zander had called Sam in advance to ask her to distract Stevie today. He really wants to have a look at her sketchbook, so he and Sam devised a plan. He would tiptoe up the stairs, hide in an alcove, and signal to Sam to call Stevie downstairs. And once she was gone, he would be able to have a look at her artwork.

He approaches her desk quietly and picks the drawings up one by one. One of them is a digital copy, he notices, so he separates it from the pile and examines it more closely.

His own face stares back at him, gloriously happy, onstage at Pini's. Zander holds the drawing, remembering how utterly ecstatic he had felt being there, finally onstage, playing to a crowd that seemed to enjoy his music, with Stevie, his muse, cheering him on. She had smiled back at him then, and he'd known that she'd figured out that the song was for her. Zander smiles, lost in the memory, and a voice cuts through his thoughts.

"Zander, what are you doing in here?" It's Stevie. "And, wait, are those my _drawings_?"

She rushes at him and attempts to pry the notebook out of his hands.

"Now, wait a second," he says, as he raises the book above his head. "A lot of these sketches are of me, and I believe the subject of the art has just as much right to them as the artist does."

"But," Stevie's pushing on his shoulders to try and get at the sketchbook. "_I_ drew those. _I'll _decide who to show them to. Give them_ back_."

He keeps the book aloft. "Why don't you want me to see them, Steves? They're really good."

"Because…" She jumps. "It's…" She hops again. "Embarrassing!"

She punctuates the last word with a flying leap that knocks them both off balance.

Zander has the sense to hold onto her as he falls backwards, taking her with him as they collapse onto her bed.

Everything suddenly slows down. Zander is hyperaware of Stevie's body on top of his, arm still stretched towards the sketchbook in his hand. His arm is around her waist, and they're both breathing really deeply. Suddenly, Stevie begins to laugh.

It's contagious, so Zander begins to chuckle too. And soon, they're both clutching each other as they dissolve into hysterics.

Stevie lifts her head up to look at him when they both calm down. He gazes back at her.

"Why is it embarrassing, Stevie? Your drawings are amazing." He cups her cheek. "You know the one you drew of me before we even met? When I was on the street performing?" Her eyes grow wide.

"I thought I lost it that one!"

Zander smiles at her. "Nah, I just forgot to give it back to you when I rushed out of that subway. But, you know what? That drawing made me begin writing again. Of course, the ensuing bump-ins we had helped too, but that one started it all. I couldn't stop thinking about you, you know."

He brushes her hair aside (she's not wearing a beanie today) as she brings her hand down to thread in his hair. Her head is moving closer to his, and he can feel her breath on his face. Her eyes fall shut, and they're so close together. At the last moment, Zander leans his head up and captures her lips.

Her entire body relaxes into him as they kiss, and she runs her hands through his hair. And Zander has never felt happier in his life.

"Hey, Stevie, did you- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Stevie flies off of Zander and he jumps off the bed, hands fixing his hair as Stevie smooths out her clothes.

"Um, hey, bro," Stevie begins awkwardly. "We were just – "

Her brother cuts her off. "Stevie and Zander, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G– "

"Oh, my God, are you _five_?" Stevie starts towards her brother, who books it out the door, a wicked grin on his face, still singing obnoxiously. "Get back here!" She chases him out the door.

Zander's left alone in her room. He picks up the sketchbook lying on her bed and puts it back on her desk. Smiling, he turns to leave the room.

He'll have plenty of time to look at her artwork later.


End file.
